TMNT: Old Shoes & Picture Postcards
by princessebee
Summary: Leonardo is 35 years old, an intergalactic samurai & on his way home through the cosmos when a final stop-over at a space station leads to an encounter with a figure from the past he never expected to see again. Set within the continuity of my 2007 TMNT stories.


_My first TMNT story in seven years. This is set within the personal fanon I established in my stories: "Loser", "Dust of Life", "Traffic", "Prey", "Sparring" and "Choices", all of which can be accessed through my profile. I have had this story in my head for YEARS but have finally been prompted to write it due to the excitement I'm feeling by the prospect of the upcoming live action film!_

_My continuity is a loose hybrid of the 2k3 animated series and the 2k7 CGI film, with elements picked and chosen at will from the Mirage comics. _

**ooo**

_The world had certainly changed_, Leonardo reflected silently as he politely stood aside for the trio of utroms who, housed in their glass-domed robotic transportation units, exited the bar. Even now, he still marvelled from time to time.

Entering, he blinked and smiled wryly against the sting of the smoky air, the accumulated heat of dozens of bodies of varying species oppressive but also welcome against his chill skin. Space travel, with its intensely regulated climate conditions, was not always optimal for the ectothermic. But after docking, decompressing and assessing his body's immediate needs, he'd decided that his hunger took precedence for the moment and that he could visit Quadrivium's basking deck – especially installed for cold-blooded alien species – later if Scramble's humid atmosphere didn't do the trick.

The bar was always the most densely populated place on the space station that served as a stopover for intergalactic travellers from across the universe – and occasionally the multiverse – the last one before Earth. It provided cuisine of an impressive breadth to suit the needs of dozens of species, entertainment in the form of live music, massive flatscreens playing an assortment of soap operas, news programmes and sports shows from across the galaxy, gaming areas (including gambling – much like smoking it had proved impossible to curb. At most they tried to regulate it) and plenty of booze and other intoxicants foreign to Earth. Prostitution was a given, those who offered their services being both male, female - and other. The atmosphere was frequently riotous, occasionally dangerous and always rowdy.

It was emphatically not Leonardo's style of place, but the food was good and cheap (they served a Shoyu ramen he often covetously mused on inbetween visits) and there were quiet nooks he could ensconce himself within, mind his own business and be left alone, before returning to his rented galley for a night's rest prior to the final journey home.

With his calm, commanding warrior's demeanour and the double ninjaken crossed over his shell, Leonardo drew only a few appraising glances before space was made unfussily for him to move through to the booths, sliding into an empty one with no trouble, a dissolute Omatraneese waitress taking his order quickly and with little chit chat before vanishing to put it into the kitchen. Leonardo knew how to radiate 'I want to be left alone' at a masterly level and combined it with an effortless 'do not fuck with me' aura to optimum effect. It was only the most belligerent and aggressive of characters who ever were affronted by it and attempted a confrontation. Leonardo also knew how to choose his battles and in what way to deal with them. He'd never had any serious trouble at Scramble and the average punter was happy to leave him undisturbed.

So when his peripheral caught the slim, feminine figure sashaying towards him, he felt a little spark of irritation. He kept his gaze fixed calmly on the paperback book he'd withdrawn from his rucksack as she drew up to the table, the mingling scent of her perfume and tobacco from the cigarette she smoked intruding decidedly into his space.

"I'm not after any entertainment, thank you," he said politely but firmly, finally.

The girl made an amused sound.

"Hello, Leonardo," she said raspily and he started and looked up.

She was human, her fair skin heavily made up, her thick pale red hair pulled back from her face and cascading over her shoulders in curls, and pretty – quite pretty, actually. There was something naggingly familiar about her but for a long moment he could only gaze at her in uncertainty, his brow ridges creasing. There was amusement in her blue eyes and a heavy presence of sardony and coolness there as she met his suspicious gaze. Then through the dim light he caught the hint of freckles beneath her heavy makeup, and then she lifted the cigarette to her lips in a familiar gesture and smiled, the smile that had been the one lovely thing about her and all in a rush he recalled.

"Amber."

He couldn't fully keep the trace of shock from his voice though his voice remained low.

Her smile widened and then she took a long draw of her cigarette. "I'm thrilled you remember," she said dryly but not with any rancour and, uninvited, she sat opposite him. "How are you?"

Leonardo, thirty five years old after a lifetime of intensive ninja training and execution, knew how to mask his emotions and faced her off with an impenetrable façade of calm. But beneath his plastron, his heart raced with a jumble of emotions as his mind reached back what seemed – what _was_ – a lifetime ago to recall the strange discord this woman had brought to the life of his family. The resentment he had felt towards her had long ago died – as he had fully expected she would have too, by now, if he was completely honest – but seeing her so unexpectedly, so suddenly, brought it all back.

"I'm quite well," he replied cautiously, marking the spot in his book and pushing it aside, not disguising that he appraised her from cool blue eyes. "So are you from the looks of things."

She chuckled and, almost flirtatiously, pushed a curl back over her shoulder. He noticed her hands were manicured, her nails long and red. "I'm ticking over okay, yeah." Her shoulders, arms and décolletage were heavily powdered to mask her freckles and she was at least thirty pounds heavier than when he had last seen her, ragged, pitiful and defiant to the last on a dank street corner in New York City. Openly he shifted his gaze to the crook of her elbow. She noticed and snorted a little laugh, brazen as ever.

"I've been off the gear almost fourteen years now," she told him and even he couldn't help the little quirk of surprise that lifted his brow. For the first time then, she hesitated and seemed to lose her self-assuredness, but continued: "I have your brother to thank for that."

There it was then. The spectre that had thickened the air between them from the moment he recognised her. The source of the resentment that was rising up in surprisingly intense waves of recollection. His brother. Raphael.

Leonardo stiffened; his jaw set and stared at her coldly. "I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that."

Amber did not have the grace to blush, but met his unpitying gaze steadily and he saw a remorse in her eyes that softened him a little.

"I'm glad you're still in touch," she said softly, smoke trailing from her bright red lips. He felt himself harden again.

"Nothing will ever become between me and my family," he said to her with careful emphasis.

At that moment his ramen arrived and Amber ordered herself two large gin and tonics, a presumption that irritated Leonardo even as he recognised he was curious and, despite himself, wanted her to stay.

"Doesn't recovery demand full abstinence from all intoxicating substances?" he couldn't help the pointed enquiry. Amber rolled her eyes and lit another cigarette, drawn from a gold case she kept in a small glittering purse. Ticking along okay indeed.

"Give me a break, Leo. I haven't touched smack in fourteen years, I think I'm doing okay. I said I was off the gear, not that I was clean and sober."

He bristled at the intimacy of the diminutive but knew she wasn't trying to get a rise out of him. She was just Amber, as she had always been, however else she had changed. He supposed that, all things considered, no one really changed all that much. Himself included.

Leonardo gazed down at the bowl of mouth-watering noodle soup in front of him, laden with vegetables, boiled egg and meat, in an aromatic broth that made his stomach growl with desire, highly disciplined ninja or not. But good manners made him reluctant to pick up the chopsticks and commence eating, regardless of how ambivalent his feelings towards this woman were and of how little he owed her. No, he hadn't changed all that much himself at all.

Amber waved a hand, cigarette smoke wafting in all directions. "Eat up. I don't mind."

He glanced at her again, once more slightly shocked by how different she looked, suddenly deeply uncomfortable with her presence. She'd always unnerved him slightly, which might've been funny if taken only at face value. She was no physical threat. At a glance she was no threat at all, until her strange relationship with his brother came into play. That had almost torn the family apart. So much for no threat. And he simply couldn't understand what motivated someone like her. Her desires, her choices, her perspective were as impenetrable to him as utrominium was to his blades. And that was unsettling. Even after all this time. What was it that she wanted?

He asked her.

It flustered her. The bravado she had always affected so effortlessly slipped away a little and her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze dropped to the scratched and potted surface of the perspex table between them. One long red fingernail worried at a pockmark in the green plastic and the hand that held her cigarette shook sightly.

"Leonardo, I'm sorry," she said it in a rush and once the words were out they seemed to relax her a little and she lifted her eyes up to his again and between the haze and the gloom he saw they were shiny. Her mouth quirked in a strange, desperate little smile and she lifted her shoulders and dropped them again, shaking her head. "I'm sorry." And it was practically a plea.

Leonardo sat very still, every muscle in his body tensed. She'd managed, finally, to floor him. And he wasn't sure yet how he wanted to react.

He was saved from having to make the decision straight away by the arrival of her drinks. She immediately ordered two more and gulped half of one down straight off and he observed it wryly but did not comment. He was still processing the shock of her apology – and of how it made him realise just how much she was apologising for. Water under the bridge? Yesterday he would've said yes. Heck, twenty minutes ago he would've shrugged. Amber? The junkie prostitute who was the cause of his most conflicted and sensitive brother's first broken heart? That was fifteen years ago. That was life.

Now he was reminded how much old wounds could still ache.

He released the tension in his body and leaned back against the vinyl plush of the seat, picking up his chopsticks and carefully separating them then rubbing them briskly against each other. His soup had cooled a little but was warm enough still to be a pleasurable experience rather than just sustenance. He couldn't enjoy it as much as he would've had Amber never abruptly appeared though. While he ate, Amber continued to smoke and to drink and he felt her calm as the silence between them resolved in nature of its own accord. He ate calmly, steadily and slowly and when he was finished he set his chopsticks across the bowl, patted his lips with his napkin and then looked over to her, a decision reached.

"Thank you, Alexandra," he used her real name, dug up out of the recesses of his memory, to show her how seriously he was taking this. "I appreciate that. I appreciate it a lot." It was the truth. His mind had worked furiously even as he ate calmly. He had seen the desperate sincerity in her eyes, the depth of the emotion she usually so fiercely concealed laid bare. Her defences, for once, all down and showing that beneath all that toughness and seeming callousness, she had a heart as vulnerable as any. In that way she was just so very much like Raphael that it had cut through to the core of him and his resentment had subsided.

Amber smiled, striving to affect her customary cockiness once more. But now the veneer had slipped it seemed she couldn't quite get it back – not like she used to. It touched him despite himself.

"I've thought about you – about all of you – so much over the years," she told him. "I never knew how to get in touch – though I don't think you would've wanted me to - "

He conceded with a wry tilt of the head, one brow ridge flicking up.

" – but I hoped very much you were all doing well." In another surprising move in the never-ending surprises this changed-yet-unchanged Amber was delivering, the hand that did not hold the ever-present cigarette stole across the table, her small fingertips brushing over the massive, scaly knuckles of his loosely clenched fist. Leonardo did not like to be touched by those he wasn't close to but he recognised the appeal in her gesture for what it was and tolerated it. "Please tell me, how are you all – how – how – is Raphael?"

Leonardo sighed suddenly, his plastron rising and falling, as he looked down to where she touched him. He had never considered Amber part of the family, had never even considered her a friend and had been relieved her relationship with Raphael had not lasted so long that he had ever been faced with the possibility he might have to. He himself had barely spent time with her, likewise Michelangelo, Donatello and their father. She had been Raphael's alone – his secret for a long time and then his first love and then the cause of what was, at that time, his greatest emotional devastation. Her lifestyle had not gelled with the family's and he had been fiercely, unreasoningly protective of her, refusing to betray anything that might have got her criticised. Eventually they had all known about the clandestine relationship – but they knew barely anything more than that.

It wasn't until years later, one rare night when Leonardo had gotten drunk with Raphael for no reason other than to let off some steam and do some brotherly bonding, that Raphael had told him the entire story – everything he had so jealously guarded for so long. How they had met and become friends. All that had passed between them when Leonardo was away on his training mission. How they had finally become lovers – the terrible circumstances that had stripped away their hesitation. And then, how she had run from him when he pushed too hard for her to give up the gear. Leonardo had known their relationship had been fraught – how could it be otherwise? – but he had been struck dumb and heartbroken to hear it all poured out like that, to hear the pain that, even six years and another girlfriend on, still pierced at his brother. They had all lived with Raphael's heartbreak, of course, but _naturally_ Raphael had refused absolutely to talk to any of them about it. Leonardo suspected he had turned to April a few times but his brothers and father – to their anguish – he had excluded from his private pain, except when it erupted in fierce, unholy bursts of temper and aggression. He had been deeply affected by Raphael's trust that night and had never forgotten one word though the next day Raphael claimed to have no recollection of the evening's confessions. He was deeply grateful Amber was long out of his brother's life. She had never belonged in it.

But despite how resolutely he had relegated her to an outsider, he couldn't deny what she had meant to Raphael and how important she had been in his life for a while. Nor could he deny that Raphael had meant something significant to Amber too, or else so much of what had happened between them – never would have.

Leonardo's hand shifted out from beneath hers, then took the fragile appendage in his own, holding it gently. He felt her hand tremble in his as she recognised the enormous generosity he was showing her in that reassuring touch.

"Raphael is well," he answered her, meeting her eyes directly. "He is very well. He's been through a lot – we all have – but he is healthy and, I believe, happy. He works as a mechanic in New York – where we are all still based – and travels as much as he can. He still trains like a demon, naturally, but he's calmed down a lot. He isn't so quick to fight – not that he ever backs down from one, mind you."

He paused to reflect on Amber's expression. A strange and lovely smile had crept up her face – a smile that was as bittersweet as it was glad and the tender combination touched him. He squeezed her hand a little and continued.

"He lives with Donatello and April – " he paused, unsure how much Amber had ever known about their long time human friend who was considered by all of them as a sister, but when Amber did not query he realised Raphael must've told her something. "And his niece, Shadow – "

At this revelation, Amber's expression slipped into one of surprise. Leonardo chuckled a little. "Not by blood – she was adopted into the family – it's a bit of a long story. But Shadow has been the best thing that ever happened to him. She's brought light into his heart in a way nothing else ever has." Something shimmered in Amber's eyes and he wondered if it hurt her to hear that, when all she had brought Raphael had been emotional turmoil. He decided he had said enough about Raphael for the moment. "As for the rest of us – we're all well. Donatello is a scientist now, working with the utroms in one of their earth-based laboratories. You probably know interspecies marriage isn't legal yet on earth but he and April had a commitment ceremony a while back so all of his dreams have come true basically. Sensei is very old and frail now. He went on his own path for a while – well, we all did – but has returned to New York to live with Don. We're not sure how much longer he has left." Still unused to the prospect of that one-day reality, Leonardo edgily nudged away his empty bowl with his free hand, automatically scanning the bar to take note of changes in patrons, moods, positions and energy, even as he continued sharing the details of a family he had never wanted this woman to be a part of. "Michelangelo – " here Leonardo's lips twisted in a smile and Amber couldn't help but follow suit, an all too common reaction to the mention of that brother's name by anyone who knew him. "Mikey's got a gig as a tour guide for alien races visiting earth."

Amber laughed, gusting smoke out through her nostrils. "That's so Mikey," she said and he smirked in agreement.

"Yeah it is," he chuckled then let go of her hand, running his palm across the dome of his head. "He's dating a Neutrino girl and is basically happy as a clam."

Amber lifted her eyebrows in a prompt. "And you, Leo? What about you?"

He balked a little, tilting his head to study her, again impressed by her transformation from ugly street waif to this elegant, attractive and even healthy looking woman. Her curiosity was natural, he supposed, they may never have been close but she had spent two weeks living in their underground lair – and was, essentially – one of the first humans who had ever known of their existence. Now they could walk around the world at will – but humans all supposed they were just another alien race. Amber knew their true origin, knew of the long years they had spent hiding in the sewers whilst no one above them, including her, could comprehend the possibility of their existence.

"I'm happy too," he began carefully. "I guess – well, I work as a sort of intergalactic samurai. I try not to leave the family for too long at a time but it's basically the ideal job for me."

She tilted her head to the side, resting her chin on one palm, cigarette jutting from between two fingertips, her smile gently teasing.

"And is there someone special for you as well?"

Leonardo's thoughts leapt to Radical and he at once warmed and ached all over. Each passing year it seemed he only loved her more, and leaving her – even knowing he would soon return – was always torture. He was reminded by Amber's enquiry how badly he missed her and how forward he was looking to being wrapped up in her warm, strong arms again and he shifted in his seat and the bar was suddenly stifling and oppressive and he dearly wished he were home already.

"Yes," he replied quietly. "Yes, there is." He spoke with finality, knowing that if Amber wished she would push the subject regardless of how clear it was he didn't want to elaborate. But she let it go.

A cautious look stole into her eyes and Leonardo sensed her body tense, and knew what question she was going to ask next, and dreaded it.

"And Raphael?" she queried, her voice already tight and defensive. "Has he - ?"

He didn't want to answer. She wasn't owed an answer. But somehow he was still compelled to.

"No," he said. "There have been. But not right now. Not for a while."

The tension in her body fled. He sensed it rather than saw it, and felt his heart like a stone in his chest.

Amber raised an arm and lifted her hair – still so much of it – away from her neck for a moment before letting it fall again. It was her smile and that hair that had been the only appeal that he could see in her all those years ago. Everything else about her had seemed so ugly, mean and selfish.

"How different the Utrom Arrival has made everything for you," Amber said with studied nonchalance, stubbing out the last of her cigarette. "I'm glad."

He noted the sincerity there. Then glanced about the bar where creatures all manner of size and appearance drank, ate, gambled, flirted, seduced and generally made merry in a riot of bizarre diversity. Then he looked back at this supremely ordinary human woman and realised something.

"For you as well," he noted.

Amber tapped out another cigarette and nodded. "There's damn good money to be made up here."

Of course he had already realised what she was doing in the bar, but it still made him uncomfortable to acknowledge it. He had never been able to be at ease with the reality of what she did for a living, even as he strived to be unprejudiced. In the past, Amber would've confronted him about it, challenged him with an aggressive litany of curse words. But now she said nothing. Maybe it was just his ninja skills at work, masking his unease.

"Plus, it's exciting, you know," she gestured to the room and her eyes lit up with enthusiasm, the sort of feeling that she had never revealed around him in their limited contact before. "All these cultures, these species, being able to witness the world as I knew it changing so completely. Being up close and personal to it – " she realised the entendre and laughed easily even as he primly blinked. " – not in that sense but, you know what I mean. I feel – " and suddenly she stilled and her voice dropped and she gazed out across the room, unseeing it, and he knew she did not want to face him. "I feel like I wasted a lot of time." Her voice was so quiet he strained to hear her over the din of the bar.

Leonardo realised then that Amber had changed on a profound level. The Amber he had met – who had defiantly, loudly, aggressively defended her drug addiction at all costs, who had practically proselytised at any opportunity about the glories of her choices, who had broken his brother's heart by choosing heroin over him – would have sooner died than say any such thing. And suddenly, everything shifted.

He watched her as she stared studiously into the distance, and then dropped his eyes, searching for something to say.

"It's good to see you doing so well," he said finally, his voice low and grave with sincerity. He glanced over at her again and caught the quiver of her chin and the lightning quick dash of a hand on her cheek. Then she had set her jaw and squared her shoulders and was reaching for her cigarette case, slipping back into the languid, impassive demeanour that was ever her first line of defence. It saddened him a little, how resolutely she strove to appear impenetrably tough, and though he knew she was older than him, she seemed somehow like a girl right then, and heartbreakingly vulnerable.

"Yeah well, it took me long enough," she said dismissively, lighting her cigarette and inhaling deep. She had almost finished her last drink.

They lapsed into silence, neither knowing what else to say though there was any number of questions to ask, the awkwardness returning.

"I've taken up enough of your time, I think," Amber said finally, not looking at him. "I should go."

"It's okay," he replied. "I need to get to bed. I'll go. You stay and finish your drink."

She did not object but a quiet sort of sadness stole over her as he slipped his book back into his rucksack and peeled out several inter-planetary notes from a belt pouch to cover the cost of his ramen and Amber's drinks.

"That should be enough," he said, and held up a three-fingered hand to silence the protest that sprung to her lips. "Please," and his eyes caught hers again. "It's fine."

She exhaled a gust of smoke, a nervous twitch in her hands again. "Thank you, Leo. I mean, thank you for letting me talk to you. Thank you for listening."

Leonardo nodded and looked down at his lap, where a battered strap from his rucksack was looped over one hand. He paused and carefully considered his next words before saying them, to be sure he meant them and was not just prompted by courtesy. "Thank you for coming over."

He rose to go, sliding out of the booth, and Amber suddenly became frantic, calling out his name and extended an arm as though to grab hold of him, her fingertips mere inches from his wrist. He paused and looked back at her, at the eyes that darted desperately from side to side, the lips that trembled with hesitation as the words caught on them. Her guard had dropped completely; there was naked pleading in her gaze, a raw undisguised hope that made him want to run before she could ask him what he knew she was about to.

"If you – " she began, her throat hoarse and she cleared it and tried again. "If you mention seeing me to Raphael – won't you – would you please – please consider – telling him I would – " and her eyes suddenly filled with the tears she had held back all throughout their time together – had held back for years for all he knew. " – I would really love to see him. If he wants to. I'll be here."

Leonardo shifted the weight of his rucksack on his shoulder and again a deep sigh shuddered through him. He expected that at any second his hesitation would prompt Amber to snap back into sardonic cynicism, making out she didn't really give a damn, that it was all the same to her, the old standbys that had ultimately so devastated his brother. But it didn't happen. She just sat there, raised up on her knees on the banquette, gazing at him hopefully with tear-filled eyes that threatened at any second to overflow and betray her completely.

So he promised what he could: "I'll think about it," he said.

She pressed her lips together and nodded, accepting it as the best he could offer.

"Take care, Leonardo," she said, her voice cracking a little.

"You too, Alex," he held her gaze a moment longer, turned to go, then once again turned back, a sudden thought occurring to him.

"You know," he began, a softly wry grin edging up his face. "You didn't swear at me once in all that?"

And Amber snorted, smiling back as her tears finally spilled, streaking in tracks tinged black with mascara down her cheeks. "Go fuck yourself, Leo," she said gently.

They smiled at each other in some sort of final accord. Then he nodded at her, turned and walked away.

**ooo**

_This story has been in the making for years. Even though I stopped writing fanfiction for the TMNT a long time ago, I often contemplated what else happened within my personal continuity and considered writing this story many times, but always lacked the right motivation. I'm really excited about the new film and it provided the proper impetus to put this sort of rounding off touch on the storyline I had developed. _

_There is every possibility there will be another follow-up to this, starring Raphael. _

_Whilst Casey didn't get a mention in this fic, rest assured he is doing just fine. I wanted Apritello to happen so I made it happen. In my mind, the split between Casey and April was amicable and he is living happily with a very-much-alive Gabrielle. As I said, I pick and choose what I want to incorporate, lol. He's not mentioned because Amber never knew him – April is only brought up because she relates to Donnie's life, Amber never knew her either._

_Whilst NOTHING story-wise in the 2k12 series has an influence on my canon (I adore that series btw, it just doesn't fit in at all with what I write), I love Leonardo's blue eyes and Raphael's green ones and so they're new headcanon for me – formerly they were both brown, in line with the CGI film. So that will be inconsistent with my earlier fics, though I plan at some point to go back and change them. _

_There's other things I have changed my mind about plotwise that I established – especially particular things I wrote about in a fanfic featuring Amber in an entirely different fandom – and I hope to get around to changing them so everything is consistent and feels right to me. We'll see. I haven't written any fanfic in a long while so this is really stretching out some atrophied muscles. _

_I think everyone I knew who used to read my stories has moved on out of the fandom now but who knows, maybe they will see this and be interested or new readers will give it a chance. Some people were really kindly enthusiastic about my TMNT stories but a lot of the "adult concepts" were very off-putting to others and that's fine. I am far from the best TMNT author and I know it, but I will always love my OC, Amber, and the strangely sweet relationship she had with Raphael. Thanks for reading, if you got this far, and all reviews and concrit are truly welcome._


End file.
